


A First Time for Everything

by SegaBarrett



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back when Sansa thought being a princess was going to be glamorous, she had thought the first time she would have a man in her bed was going to be incredibly romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones, and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: This is for lady_of_mists! :)

Sansa would think on it later, through all the horrible things that had come and gone, and it would still bring a smile to her face. The little ironies in life.

Back when Sansa thought being a princess was going to be glamorous, she had thought the first time she would have a man in her bed was going to be incredibly romantic. There would be flower petals and endless kisses and beautiful music inside her head. The exact mechanics of everything, she hadn’t been all that sure about, but she was sure whatever followed would be lovely too.

She had not exactly pictured picking up a drunk Tyrion and depositing him in her bed. While he was short, he was not particularly light, and Sansa had felt that leaving him on the floor (again) seemed more than a little undignified.

Part of her mind still didn’t trust him. He was a Lannister, after all, and she hated them all. They were rotten to the core. She kept repeating that to herself, over and over. 

It was hard to keep that mindset, however, when she was all alone here. Tyrion was the closest thing she had to a friend, to an ally; there had been Margaery, but she was getting married to Joffrey – they were wrapped up in some awful knot and Sansa didn’t know if she wanted to try to untie it.

She wondered whether she should cover him up, and the logistics seemed complicated. She’d placed him on top of the blankets, and trying to pull them out from under him and then over him would mess them all up. She had half the blanket pulled out before she gave up. 

She sighed in frustration and nearly flung her hands, before reminding herself that a lady never loses composure. That proper-Sansa voice that always seemed to come into her head at moments like this. Was there actually a dignified way to live every aspect of one’s life, or had her septa been lying to her for all those years?

Now she was tired, and found herself with the awkward experience of trying to consider sleeping with someone else already in the bed, or, technically, on top of it. What if he woke up and was confused about how he arrived there? Sansa wondered if she should stay up until he stirred, just to explain that this wasn’t her inviting him to “share her bed”, exactly, that this was something that had just happened and that she was now regretting because every scenario she conjured in her mind was more and more embarrassing.

Sansa managed to slide, slightly, under one of the covers. She took a deep breath and turned to her side, then to the other side. Trying to sleep like this was incredibly awkward – how did people do this on a daily basis, let alone the other things married couples did? 

Her parents must have done all of this, surely. 

She tried not to think about that any longer than necessary.

As she attempted to wriggle further under the covers, she felt her foot accidentally collide, through the blanket, with Tyrion’s neck.

She let out a small gasp of sympathy and apology. Kicking your husband in the head a few days after your wedding had to be some sort of omen.

Tyrion stirred. He rolled over with a groan, and his head came to rest on Sansa’s ankle.

“…Morning, my lord?” she mumbled awkwardly. The voice of Proper-Sansa in her head came up with something rather scolding to say about the whole situation.

“Morning, my lovely wife,” Tyrion replied. He turned his head and stared over at Sansa. “I don’t actually remember what led up to this, so you may have been at a small disadvantage.” He chuckled wryly. “So to speak.”

“My lord… I mean, Tyrion,” Sansa said, “I… you were… on the floor… I thought it would be better to… bring you up here. The floor looked quite a bit painful.”

Tyrion sat up.

“You have saved me from some pain, indeed, but yet my head is pounding and my arms ache.”

Sansa didn’t know why she did it, exactly, but she did. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tyrion’s forehead.

“Feel better,” she said as she pulled back. “Get some rest. You drink too much.”

“That I do, my lady,” Tyrion agreed. “But if I keep waking up in the bed of a beautiful woman, it can’t be that bad.”

Sansa surprised herself by letting out a giggle. She was reminded of Tyrion drunkenly commenting on her neck on their wedding night.

“I’m glad you think I’m beautiful,” she said with a small smile. 

“I’m glad that you are,” Tyrion replied. “Is it okay if I… stay here? Or is my company better when I’m passed out?”

“Yes, you can stay here,” Sansa said, “I’m just… still not ready to…”

“That’s perfectly all right,” Tyrion told her quickly. He began to move up the bed, eventually ending up at the top and slipping under the blanket as well. “I hope it’s not morning yet,” he mumbled. 

“I don’t think it is.” Sansa took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She figured that maybe, sharing a bed with Tyrion Lannister wasn’t the worst thing in the world. For right now, at least, the world felt a little less lonely.


End file.
